Collapse
by blackphanthom
Summary: Sometimes the line that mark the personal limits becoem blurry forthe Epppes brothers, with awful consequences. CWDA I think My first time innumb3rs playground. This is a sample of my increble clumsiness, I made a stupid mistake and erased the first 1.


_A/N: Hey! Everybody! I just meet the Eppes family four weeks ago, because in my country we are just in season one, but since the first time I love the show, Its like love at first sight. So considering that I spend a lot of days searching in the web for info about the show, there are still a lot of things that I dont know yet. If you saw a proof of my ignorance, I beg your pardon._

_**This plot idea is for the incredible danawheels. Who is great enough to read this and give me her blessing and permission.. And yes ! DawnC this is a compliment for you. Thanks for the great inspiration and idea.**_

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**_Stupid.Stupid and stupid me, I had almost a year posting in here and now, trying to edit this story . I ERASED IT!!: The bad thing is that I already erase the wonderful reviews that you write me, but I have the wonderful luck to had them in my e-mail account, so :MagisterEquitum,getpink,Zaedah,Patty,Ms.GrahamCracker,jlm110108,Cutiepie2191,suejacken,luvnumb3rs,supergirl13684,1st.endeavor,kiki Cabou,itcplegyptian,Dawnangst and An-JellyCa ( BTW your profile page make laugh a lot, thanks for the good moment). And of course thanks to What? and Anon. wich names unfortunely I don't know. Thanks again to all of you to take the time to drop me a wonderful line. Love. Roxxy._**

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_**NUMB3RS**_

_**COLLAPSE**_

Finals. He hated them. He hated giving them, and he sure as hell hated reading them. Still, he had a class full of final papers to grade and another class full of finals to administer and grade. He also had a paper to finish for a math journal. In the midst of all that, he also had to find _some_ time to help Don out at the FBI. Crime didn't stop just because finals hit.

_Just two more days_, he assured himself. _Two days of no sleep, tons of coffee, and then it'll be summer and you'll have two weeks off... Well, off of the university, anyway. Which pretty much means two full-time weeks at the station. _He groaned inwardly. As much as he liked working with Don, there were times he missed the down-time he used to take as a student. Christmas. Spring Break. Summer. As a grad student, he really didn't get a full summer break, but at least he'd always managed to take a week or two off and wind down. For the past three and a half years, though, he'd taken no Christmas breaks, no spring breaks, and no summer breaks. All his spare time was spent with Don, and, quite frankly, he was beginning to feel a bit worn down. Even the times he'd taken going camping or fishing had often turned out to be anything _but _relaxing. Drug dealers, and terrorists always managed to put a crimp in his vacation plans.

_Okay, there was that one spring break we had. That was over a year ago, I think. Or was it the year before? _He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he adjusted his backpack and headed toward his office. _Well, at least Don and I managed one real vacation. One spring break of camping, fishing, and relaxing, sans bad guys. Count me spoiled._

Arriving at his office, he unlocked the door and shuffled inside, dropping his backpack by his desk as he plopped into the chair. He raised one arm to pull his hair back, but noticed the small tremors shaking his hand and promptly lowered his arm. He leaned forward, folding his arms on the desk and resting his head in the crook of one elbow. His arms and legs felt like lead, and his eyes stung with fatigue. He'd been doing far too much reading and computer work over the past few days, and the insane pace was beginning to take its toll on his body. He'd managed a total of three hours sleep over the past two days, and it didn't look like he'd be catching up on that lost sleep until after finals.

_Caffeine. I need caffeine. And Sugar. That'll help. _Now, if he could just get out of the chair to retrieve his study food.

* * *

The elevator slowed, squeaking to a stop on Don's floor of the FBI station. Charlie opened his eyes and pushed himself off the wall just as the doors slid open. He forced his legs to carry him to the hall, his backpack weighing heavily on his shoulders. Keeping his eyes open took a monumental act of will, as did convincing his knees not to buckle. 

He entered the bullpen and spotted Don at his desk hunched over the computer's keyboard. Immediately, he trudged forward, the air around him seemingly as thick as molasses as he struggled to travel the short distance.

"Hey, Charlie, you feeling okay?"

Charlie turned his head to see David Sinclair gazing at him with concerned eyes. He managed a small smile and nodded.

"Yeah, David, just tired. Finals, and all," he explained.

The older man nodded sympathetically, gently slapping Charlie on the shoulder. That small impact nearly knocked the mathematician off his feet. "I'm glad I'm not at school anymore. Don't know how you do it, kid," David mused.

_Me either, sometimes. _Charlie simply shrugged, forcing his smile wider. "Lots of caffeine, man."

David chuckled. "No doubt. Well, get some rest, Charlie. You look like you could use it."

_Sure. Rest. Piece of cake. Not!_ Certainly not with all he had to do. To top it off, he seemed to have come down with a bout of insomnia. Last night he'd tried to get a decent night's sleep, going to bed at midnight, but his mind had just been too active to wind down. He'd laid in bed, awake, until about 2 a.m., then given up and did about an hour's worth of reading. He'd finally fallen asleep around four. Unfortunately, his alarm had gone off at six, giving him a grand total of two hours sleep.

"Sure, David," Charlie replied automatically. "Thanks."

The big man nodded, smiling. "Well, see ya, Charlie."

"Bye," Charlie said, watching the special agent walk away. With a tired sigh, Charlie resumed his seemingly long trek to Don's desk. His big brother's eyes met his, and he rose from his chair.

"Glad you made it, buddy," Don said. "We've got a meeting with a snitch in twenty minutes. I was just about to take off." The senior agent grabbed his jacket off the chair and maneuvered around his desk. "Let's go."

Charlie stopped dead in his tracks as his brother passed. Turning around just took way too much effort. Maybe if he just left his backpack behind, he'd be able to walk without struggling to remain standing. He shrugged out of the straps and let the backpack fall to the floor. It hit with a heavy _thud._ Don turned around, glancing at the discarded backpack.

"You coming, Charlie?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. Just thought I'd leave my things here," he muttered, his words slurring together.

Don furrowed his eyebrows and took a step toward the young man. "You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, sure. Jus' tired."

He took a step toward the agent, but he could still feel the phantom weight of the backpack on his shoulders, weighing him down. The room suddenly spun, and he reached out for Don's desk. His hand found only, air though. He tried to take another step, but suddenly his feet seemed glued to the floor.

"Charlie?"

Don's voice seemed to come through a tunnel, sounding low and distant, almost distorted. His brother's image wavered, and Charlie blinked in an attempt to clear his vision. Then everything just shut down.

121 323 454 656 767 878 989

"Charlie!" Don lunged forward to grab his brother.

He caught the unconscious young man and lowered him gently to the floor. Instantly, he was surrounded by a mass of bodies.

"What happened?"

Don recognized David's voice and looked up at the man. Megan and his coworkers also crowded around, their faces etched with concern.

"I don't know. He just collapsed," Don explained. "Call an ambulance, Megan."

Reeves nodded. "Sure," she replied, then spun on her heels and hurried to the nearest desk.

David knelt down next to Don, placing a hand on Charlie's forehead. "He said he was tired, Don. He didn't look too good."

"What the hell happened?" Colby Granger's deep voice boomed.

"Charlie collapsed," Don explained. He tilted his head, listening to his brother's breathing and heart rate. Despite Charlie's inactivity, his heart pounded like a man who'd just run a marathon. Don frowned, his jaw clenching with concern. "I think it's just exhaustion, but I'm not sure." He looked up at Megan, standing by the desk with the phone cradled on her shoulder. "Forget the ambulance, Megan. I don't think it's that serious. I'll drive him myself."

"Okay, Don. You sure?"

"Yeah, Meg. Thanks."

Don studied Charlie's pale face and realized he hadn't seen the kid eat for over two days. Of course, he hadn't seen a lot of Charlie during that time, so he'd just figured his brother had been grabbing meals at the university. Now he suspected otherwise. Charlie probably _hadn't _eaten much during the past two or three days, and the FBI's agent knew for a fact that the kid hadn't gotten much sleep because he'd used to make that during finals.

He touched Charlie's cheek, then gave the young man a gentle slap. "Charlie? Come on, wake up." When he got no response, he tried a slightly harder slap. "Charlie, open your eyes."

The young man groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. His brown eyes peered up at Don, narrowed with confusion. "Huh? Don? Whu happened? Did I sleep through my alarm?"

"No, you didn't sleep through your alarm." Don looked up at Colby. "Help me get him up?"

Colby knelt down and grabbed one of Charlie's arm. Don grabbed the other one, and the two of them lifted Charlie to his feet. The kid was heavy, dead weight, and his head hung forward.

"Charlie?"

"Huh?" he moaned.

"Can you walk, buddy?"

"Uh-huh," the groggy man replied, but his body remained limp in contrast.

Don glanced at Colby. "I guess we get to carry him to the car."

"Okay, Don." The agent shook his head and moved forward with Don as they carried Charlie to the elevator. "You're sure it's just exhaustion?"

The senior agent nodded. "Pretty sure. I'll take him to the E.R. to make sure. I think his blood sugar might be low. That's my main concern. He can sleep the rest off."

Granger shook his head. "Damn, doesn't the Whiz kid take care of himself?"

Don looked guiltily at the agent. "He's been pretty tapped between the station and working for finals. I knew he wasn't getting much sleep, but he rarely gets enough sleep so I didn't think much about it. I haven't even seen him all that much for the past few days."

They arrived at the elevator and Granger pressed the _down_ button. "Yeah, well, when he wakes up, tell him to take more care of himself."

Don nodded. "Gladly,."

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* * *

Charlie shifted deeper beneath the covers. His pillow felt a bit too hard, and the mattress seemed much too uniform, lacking its normal lumps. He opened his eyes to see fluorescent light panels in the ceiling. _Huh?_

"Hey, buddy."

Charlie turned his head toward Don's voice. An IV bag hung from a pole next to his brother. Charlie followed the line down to his hand. _A hospital? Why am I in the hospital?_

He looked back up at his big brother. "Donnie, man, why am I in the hospital?"

The agent leaned back in his chair, his jaw muscles taught and his eyes admonishing. "You tell me."

Charlie's brow furrowed with confusion. "Huh?"

"Exhaustion and hypoglycemia, Charlie."

_What? _The crease in Charlie's forehead deepened. "What are you talking about?"

Don sighed and leaned forward. "You collapsed at the station, buddy. You haven't slept in days, and you obviously haven't eaten because your blood sugar was so low they hooked you up to a glucose drip."

Charlie raised his hand to rub his eyes. "That's ridiculous, Don. I'm a teacher. I've always done this during finals."

"Foregone sleep and food?"

"I've been eating," Charlie protested.

"That's not what your blood sugar says."

The young man sighed, closing his eyes. "Man, I'm too tired for this right now." He allowed himself a moment's rest, then opened his eyes and sat up. "And I've got finals, man. I don't have time to be laying around in this hospital bed."

Don shook his head, pushing Charlie back down. "Wrong. Dad called the Dean and you've got someone to cover for your exams."

Charlie's face grew hot. He didn't like the idea of Daddy going behind his back to tell his boss he couldn't cut it. "That still leaves the article I have to finish," Charlie shot back, making another attempt to sit, but Don pushed him back down.

"When's it due?"

"It's not exactly _due_, Don, but I want to submit it in time for next month's journal."

Don eyes turned to daggers. "It'll have to wait."

Charlie clenched his jaw. "Like hell, Don. Where do you get off --"

"Charlie," Don growled. "Cut the crap. If it were me laying in this hospital bed, you'd be telling me the same thing -- to lay off. Take it easy. In case you haven't clued in, we're family. That means when you're down, I'm down. Dad's deadly worried , just like me , and you know how much I hate seeing Dad like that . So, believe me, you're going to get rest because I'm not spending anymore time calming down Dad than I have to."

The admonishment stole Charlie's anger, and he sagged back into the mattress. "Sorry, Don," he muttered, looking reproachfully up at his brother. "Dad's really that worried?"

The Agent nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

A tiny smile touched Charlie's lips. "He's a great Dad."

* * *

1975 1967 1975 1967

Don opened the house door and placed a hand on Charlie back, steering him inside. "To bed," he ordered.

Charlie gave no argument. He still felt tired. He'd only spent a couple of hours in the hospital, and although he felt better after receiving a healthy dose of glucose, his body still ached with fatigue. Wordlessly, he shuffled into his room, falling forward onto his bed. His head hit the pillow hard, and one hand dangled over the edge, his fingers touching the floor. The doctor had ordered a mild sedative, which felt more like something that could put down an elephant. He didn't even bother struggling against sleep as it claimed him.

Don stood in the doorway, a wistful smile on his lips as he stared at the ragdoll figure on the bed. With an affectionate sigh, he moved forward. He slid Charlie's sneakers off, then worked the jacket off. Finally, he lifted the young man's arm and placed it on the futon mattress, then raised the covers and tucked them around his brother's frame.

"That's better," he muttered approvingly, extending his hearing to listen to his father working frenetic at the kitchen. Charlie's breathing sounded slow and regular, and his heart had resumed its normal rhythm. A small smile tweaked Don's mouth. "Much better."

**The End**

2303197429/2+911/1+12. 2 is my lucky numb3rs ( That's almost only I know about numbers. I'm a teacher of 220 college students, so I need to use the maths, but that's very difficult to me. Maybe the reason because I choose Human's Science instead of maths)

Please read and review. Thanks


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